


Fixed

by fantastimonsy (WithoutAnyRain)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Eleventh Doctor Era, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:11:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithoutAnyRain/pseuds/fantastimonsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor tries to work on his beloved TARDIS, but finds the quiet of her interior to be quite thought-provoking. Especially when it comes to the thoughts he wants to avoid. However, remembering might be exactly what the old man needs at the moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fixed

The Doctor sat in his repair hammock, half-working on the TARDIS, half-thinking. _Always_ half-thinking. He recalled that he didn't like thinking too much. Made his head hurt. Not to mention his hearts...  
He tried to concentrate on the buzzing noise of his sonic. It's green glow illuminated the various wires and tubing under the control-panel as he tweaked and tightened the complicated mess.  
  
"Oh, but you're a lovely mess, aren't you?" He mumbled. He knew she could hear him. Or at least he hoped. He heard a tiny creak from somewhere below him. He took that as an agreement.  
  
All was quiet within the TARDIS. To anyone else it might've been ominous, but he was too comfortable to be on edge. He'd spent plenty of time alone here, just the two of them. It was almost normal.  
  
"And it's always a pleasure to be alone with you, Dear."  
  
He closed his eyes and listened to her faint rumble for a moment. It felt like ages since he'd really heard it last. Nine hundred years gives you a lot of time to be desensitized. He leaned back, relaxing to the almost musical humming filling his head. It felt strange; to relax. It wasn't something he was used to, nor was it something he did, or was able to do, often. As his muscles loosened, so did his mind. Thoughts he'd struggled to keep out fluttered on the edges of his consciousness like trapped birds and he knew he had to let them in. It's tiresome trying to keep things hidden; especially from yourself. He had to face them some time.  
  
He let his last mental walls down, and the first thing to flow into his subconscious was River. She was the only person he'd ever met that could leave him so thoroughly confused.  He'd been around her more than enough times now to have figured her out, but somehow she'd managed to evade his attempts until she was willing to tell him herself. She liked to be cryptic. Mostly because she knew he hated it, but also because she was from his future. Which he also hated.  
  
She was clever. Impossibly clever. And he still trusted her. Even though she knew so much about him that he didn't even know himself. That was irritating and almost infuriating sometimes, and yet... There was something there. He had no idea what kind of _something_ that was. But it felt like a _good something._ And it had been a long while since he'd had a something of any kind.  
  
Or a "somebody."  
  
And of course, that brought thoughts of her. And with them, a lot of pain. As much as he wanted to escape it, to run from it just like everything else, he knew he couldn't. Not this time. He had to sit and let it wash over him. He had to _remember._  
  
It was a bit funny, looking back on how he used to be. The Doctor even cracked a smile. He'd been so filled with rage and hurt; was so lost. How did one young blond from London change all that?  She fixed it. She fixed him. That stupid, wonderful girl changed him completely in just a moment... And all those wonderful moments after that made him better and better until finally, he was hers. They ran and laughed and they loved, even though they never proclaimed it that way. They never really needed to.  
  
There were times that it seemed bad, but it was always, _always_ so good. He was flying high, and then in one more moment it all came crashing down again. She was gone, and suddenly the silence was so loud. He remembered dreaming of her for an inordinant amount of time after that, always waking to the smell of her, and always loathing the fact that that it was a lie. As much as he thought the pain would kill him, he pushed on just as he always does. And that was exactly what he needed.  
  
All that seemed so far away now. Almost like a dream. Another life. Another Doctor. He missed being _her_ Doctor. But he'd been that for so many before.  
  
"Too much has changed." He heard himself whisper. "You're not the man you used to be."  
  
And he was correct. Everything was different now; new. He was his eleventh self, not that sauntering swagger-filled man with fire in his eyes. And he wasn't ever going to be him again. He had to move on. He felt like he was near the end of a very long road; almost there, but not quite... He just needed more time. Hopefully he had enough of it.  
  
"I'm so tired of being torn up inside. I'm not even sure I have a reason to be anymore." He grumbled. "She's happy. They're all happy. You made sure of that. Because that's all you could do."  
  
He sighed as he stumbled into a fleeting moment of clarity. He'd done all he could. And as much as he believed he had failed them, he knew in his hearts that he hadn't. They were where they were supposed to be. He remembered looking back on them all and just like before, he was _so proud._ In the end that's all they ever did. Make him proud.  
  
"Maybe remembering isn't always as bad as I thought." He let the memories come and go as they pleased, but stayed far away from memories of Rose. He'd had enough of that. The rest he saw with new eyes. Sometimes it still hurt, but somehow in a good way. It was a happy kind of sad. _Bittersweet._ He sat there for what felt like ages, but all too soon he was interrupted:  
  
"It's not often I catch you sleeping. You must be tired."


End file.
